


Sort Of Almost

by jiffyfetch



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Office, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, is office au a thing? lol i guess so, well mostly fluff anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 00:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiffyfetch/pseuds/jiffyfetch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus has work friends. Sirius has real life friends. They just so happen to be the same people.</p><p>(This is a Christmas fic that I wrote in July. No, I don't know either.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 20-21

**Author's Note:**

> General trigger warnings for: drug & alcohol use (just weed, nothing major), mentions of depression & mental illness, and mentions of past self-harm in later chapters.
> 
> (Edit: I thought I should mention that this fic was inspired by a lot of things, but mostly: the movie Weekend, the song Another 100 People from company, & the office.
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has left kind comments & messages!!)

Remus Lupin absolutely, 100%, without a doubt believes that his work friends should stay at work. They're nice guys - James and Peter - but they work together, and that's enough for Remus.

He knows that Peter and James hang out sometimes outside of the office. He knows because they've invited him, undeterred by his constant refusal to go to whatever bar or club or laser tag tournament they're hitting up this weekend. James has a habit of staying a little too long by the water cooler, conveniently placed just feet from Remus's cubicle.

Remus looks up, lost in the thought, and realizes that James is standing there right now, looking up at him like a lost puppy.

"Hello, James," he says, trying not to sigh at the hopeful look on his face.

"Remus," James grins, doing a little half-pirouette and hopping up to sit on Remus's desk. "It's almost Christmas."

"This is true," Remus allows, wondering what James is going to invite him to now.

"We've all been waiting for your legendary Christmas prank," James says, which is not exactly what Remus was expecting him to say.

"Uh, those are  _your_ legendary pranks," Remus says, frowning. "You and Peter pull them off. What's the plan this year, anyways?"

"That is why I'm here, dear Moony," James announces, gesturing grandly about him at the cubicle. Remus pretends to hate the nickname, which he gained on his first day. How was he to know that the asshole he mooned in the parking lot was his future boss? "Peter and I may do all of the grunt work, but they are your genius ideas after all."

This Remus can't argue with. Lucius Malfoy, their unfortunate boss, had been extra hard on Remus ever since the unfortunate bare-ass-in-the-parking-lot incident of his first day. James had quickly approached him, offering to help get even. They periodically pulled minor pranks on him, trying to keep his ego in check and relieve the daily office boredom. 

And he  _did_ have something in mind for this Christmas. Something  _really really_ good.

"Okay," Remus admits, trying to hide his giant grin, "okay, I might have something in mind. But I'm going to need your help. Maybe Peter's too."

"I would be delighted to," James replies. He gives a little kick to Remus's chair, making it spin around. Remus wonders, not for the first time, if James is maybe actually twelve years old. "There is, however, one teeny tiny condition."

"Oh?" Remus asks, cocking his eyebrow.

"Mmhmm. If we help you, you've got to come to my Christmas party." James hold up his hand, stopping Remus's protests before he can even open his mouth. "I know you have some weird policy about keeping work and life separate, but it's really stupid, no offense. I like you, mate. I can't believe you haven't met my wife. Or my best mate, I can't believe you haven't met Sirius!"

Remus sighs. He really doesn't want to go to a party. He had very exciting Christmas plans to spend his week off at home watching Law and Order reruns and getting high. But on the other hand, he's been thinking about this prank for weeks and it's  _really good_.

"This party," he says, carefully measuring his tone so it doesn't sound like he's saying yes. "Are there gonna be a lot of office people there? And is there gonna be good weed?"

James chuckles. "Just you and Peter, none of these other wankers. And yes, plenty of weed, wine, and beer. Funny, I wouldn't have pegged you for a smoker."

Remus gets that a lot, and never really understands it. He actually owns a pair of those ridiculous socks with little weed leafs on them (they were a gift, thank you very much) and he wears them on occasion when he forgets to do laundry.

"So," James says, kicking his feet up onto Remus's lap, "what exactly is the plan?"

* * *

  

The prank goes down on December 21, the last day of work. It also happens to be the day of James and Lily's Christmas party, though Remus keeps trying to forget this detail.

Lucius leaves for his lunch at 12 o'clock sharp, giving them exactly one hour to do their work. Peter stands lookout as James and Remus quickly pick the lock on his office door. They make quick work of the room, emptying cans of fake snow, hanging streamers, and installing creepy wooden reindeer.

By the time they're done, Lucius's office has become a bonafide Winter Wonderland. His desk is now a sleigh, filled with "presents" that are in fact all of his personal items wrapped in "[raunchy" paper](http://www.incrediblethings.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/Raunchy-Wrapping-Paper-1.jpg). His chair is a decked out Santa Clause throne. The ground is covered in a thick layer of faux snow. The wooden reindeer are humping.

Remus was rather proud, and from the satisfied grin on his face, he would guess that James was as well.

"He's just pulled into the parking lot, men," Peter announces, running into the office. He stops short and gasps, looking around. "Remus, this is beyond brilliant. If we don't get sued for sexual harassment, mind you, but that's a risk I'm willing to take here."

The trio re-locks the door and get back to their desks just as Lucius reenters the office. Remus very carefully does not watch his boss, pretending to focus on the empty spreadsheet in front of him.

He allows himself to look up when he hears the sound of glass breaking. Lucius, mouth wide open, had dropped a mason jar on the floor when he opened the office door and saw what was inside.

For some reason the jar was filled with marbles, now released into the office at large. As Lucius yells for Avery, the head of HR, the whole office gathers around to see what caused the commotion. Remus joins them, pleased to see many of his coworkers hiding smiles and laughs behind their hands.

Avery runs towards Lucius, only to slip on one of the marbles, falling flat on his back. This Remus had not anticipated, but the distraction it created was excellent. The rest of Lucius's inner circle ran around trying to figure out what was going on, many of them slipping on marbles themselves. The whole building erupted into chaos. 

* * *

 

Remus doesn't know what he's expected to wear for a Christmas party. He doesn't know what to expect at all, now that he thinks of it. Is he meant to bring a present? For all their hours spent together, Remus doesn't really know what James likes, and has never met his wife. He digs around in his pantry and finds a semi-old bottle of decent wine. He brushes the dust off of it, tapes a bow onto the bottle, and returns to his clothing dilemma.

Remus stares at himself in the mirror. At the moment, he's still wearing his work pants - slightly shabby but still nice enough black slacks. He had pulled a dark red sweater on instead of a white button down. His hair is an absolute mess, sticking up in a million different directions, not unlike James's own. 

He decides he absolutely hates the sweater. It brings out the reddish tones in his face, making the thin white scars on his cheek and forehead stand out more than usual. He throws it on the bed and replaces it with another sweater, this time a blue one.

It's okay. Except it has a stain on the collar, which is actually fairly sticky. Besides, blue isn't exactly Christmas-y, is it? Remus hasn't celebrated the holiday since his mum died. Maybe he should have, but there never really seemed much of a point without family.

He puts the red sweater back on, decides  _fuck it_ , and heads out the door before he can change his mind.

James's apartment is in the nice part of town, which is really quite far from Remus's own basement flat. He takes two buses to get there, and then checks the address three times before going in. The building is nice, with a fancy lobby and several elevators. It's been decorated for the holiday, with fairy lights strung up everywhere and a giant tree in the lobby. When the elevator arrives, Remus realizes it has mistletoe hanging in it. Of course.

He hears the party before he can see it, music thumping ominously through the elevator doors before they open. He takes a deep breath and pushes his way past a few people in the hallway. The door has been flung open, and the faint of smell of gingerbread is spilling out of it.

The apartment itself isn't very big. It has a kitchen/living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. There's a large terrace off of the kitchen, where a few people are sitting, smoke drifting in from them every time the wind blows.

"Remus!" James's voice calls out above the din. He's wrapped in a quick, shoulder-pounding hug and pulled into the kitchen.

A red-haired woman is pulling trays out of the oven, each filled with piping-hot cookies. She looks up at the approaching men and grins, a smile that lights up her face, making Remus immediately feel welcome.

"Lily," James announces, "this is Remus. Remus, Lily."

Remus didn't know what he expected from James's wife, but she wasn't it. James always looked disorganized, with a semi-untucked shirt or untied shoes. His hair was unruly. Lily seemed to be his polar opposite, hair neatly combed and pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a simple, spotless dress. James, who did not appear to be helping with the cooking at all was covered in flour.

"It's lovely to meet you, Remus," she says, smiling at him. "Help yourself to anything you like - there's beer in the fridge and wine over there at the bar. There's food too, and some people are smoking out on the terrace I think."

"Nice to meet you too." Remus isn't sure what else to say. He remembers the bottle of wine in his hand. "Oh, I brought this for you," he adds, holding it out.

"Thanks, mate!" James says, grinning like this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him. "Make yourself at home!"

Remus isn't sure what to do with this. He doesn't see Peter anywhere, and doesn't recognize anyone else. He wanders out onto the terrace, hoping that the smoky atmosphere isn't just from cigarettes.

"Hey!" a gruff voice calls to him the second he steps outside. "I don't know you! I know everyone James knows!"

"Apparently not," Remus replies, looking over the man who had spoken. He was dressed in all black, with heavy motorcycle boots, tight black jeans, and a black sweater under a leather jacket. He had long, dark hair, tied back in a messy bun. Perfect winged eyeliner was done up around twinkling, mischievous eyes. He held a joint in his hand, which was pointed accusingly at Remus.

The man snorts at Remus's response, seemingly trying not to laugh. 

"I'm Sirius," he says, "it's a pleasure to meet me, I'm sure."

"Remus," Remus replies. It's his turn to snort at Sirius now. "You're James's legendary best mate. I've heard loads about you."

"Talk about legendary," Sirius says, eyes widening, "I didn't think I'd ever meet you. When James isn't talking about Lily, he won't shut up about how genius you are. And I've gotta say, I agree."

"You do?" Remus wasn't expecting this. "I just come up with lame pranks for our boss. James has as much a part in them as I do."

"You can be as modest as you'd like," Sirius says, "but I'm impressed. Want a hit?"

"Yes please," Remus says, letting the weed burn his throat. He feels his anxiety fading, and leans against the railing to look out at the view. He feels like he can see the whole city from here, even though it's only the fourth floor. 

"View's amazing, isn't it?" Sirius asks, walking over to lean on the railing next to Remus. Remus suspects that the way Sirius arranges his limbs, casually flexing his arm and sticking his ass out a little too much, isn't exactly casual. In fact, he's beginning to suspect that Sirius is a bit of a dick.

"It is," Remus says, blowing smoke up at the stars. Sirius takes the joint back, letting his fingers linger against Remus's for a little too long. "How do you know James?"

"We've gone to school together since...first grade I think?" Sirius says, furrowing his brow while he tries to remember. "I moved in with his family when we were thirteen. He's practically my brother."

"Why?" Remus doesn't mean to ask it, just blurts it out by accident. "Shit, I didn't mean to ask that. Sorry."

"It's fine," Sirius laughs. "I'd rather you just come out and ask. My parents kicked me out. They caught me kissing another boy and decided it wasn't going to fly."

"Sorry," Remus tells him. "My dad had a similar reaction to me, when I told him I was bi. My mom didn't agree though. And it didn't matter the argument, she always won. He never really got over that, though."

"Parents, huh?" Sirius mutters, staring off into the distance.

"Well," Remus grins, "at least we always have weed for our pain, huh?"

"It truly is a gift," Sirius replies. "You work with James, yeah? What do you do?"

"Accounting," Remus says, mouth puckering around the word as if it's sour.

"Oh, god," Sirius groans. "Don't tell me you're an awful bore."

"I like to think I'm quite interesting," Remus laughs. "Accounting isn't exactly my dream. But I'm an awful salesperson, unlike James and Peter. And that's the only interesting job at the company."

"Why don't you work somewhere else then?" Sirius asks. "You know, follow your dreams."

Remus can't help himself. He laughs at this, laughs without stopping for several minutes. He struggles to catch his breath, doubling over with laughter again when he sees the bewildered look on Sirius's face.

"I'm sorry," he says, still wheezing, "it's just that only rich people ever say shit like that. I'm too broke to follow my dreams."

Sirius's face twists at this, a brief moment of something that Remus can't identify. He quickly gets it under control, smoothing his face into an unreadable mask.

"Sorry," Remus says, "did I say something wrong?"

"No," Sirius replies, voice flat. "You're fine."

"What do you do then?" Remus asks.

"I choreograph stunts, like for movies." He can't hide his smile when he answers, clearly quite proud of himself.

"What?" Remus gasps. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sirius says, "I specialize in motorcycles. You know those awful movies about wizards, with that one guy who rides a flying motorcycle? I did that."

"No way!" Remus replies, feeling his eyes widen. "That's so cool, oh my god."

"I could show you sometime, I've got a motorcycle." Sirius's eyes are glittering in the moonlight. Remus wants to punch him in the face a little bit. He's not sure where that impulse comes from. "Have you ever ridden one before?"

"I have not, sir," Remus replies, giggling. The pot had clearly gotten to his brain.

"Come on," Sirius says, starting to walk back inside. "Come on! I'll show you!!"

"You have it  _here_ ," Remus asks, trying very hard not to gasp again.

"I live here," Sirius says. "Well not  _here_ here, but in this building. Bike's in the garage."

Remus doesn't say anything else, just follows him out of the apartment.

Sirius leads him to the elevator, hits the "P" button, and leans back against the wall. Remus hums quietly to himself, looking around the elevator. He looks up and starts giggling again, hiding his face in his hands.

"What is it?" Sirius asks, frowning like he thinks Remus is laughing at him. Remus just points to the ceiling. Sirius follows his finger up. "Oh," he says, "the mistletoe." He joins Remus then, letting out sharp little barks of laughter.

When they both stop laughing, they look at each other instead. They stare at each other for a few moments - probably only thirty seconds, but to Remus it felt like forever. Like he was staring at Sirius forever, watching him lick his lips, watching him slowlyslowlyslowly lean in, part his lips-

The elevator bell dings and they spring apart. A couple enters from the lobby, talking and laughing.

"Is this going up?" the woman asks, looking at Sirius and Remus. "Oh hey, Sirius, how are you?"

"I'm good, Mary. But no, actually, we were going down to the garage. You probably want to take another one up to James's."

The girl - Mary - nods and smiles, leaving the elevator with her boyfriend.

"So you really do know everyone that James knows?" Remus asks, smiling when Sirius turns to look at him.

"Pretty much, yeah," Sirius replies. "We've got like exactly the same group of friends. Including you, now."

Remus grinned, happy to be included. The elevator bell dings again and they step out into an underground garage. Sirius leads Remus through a maze of cars until they reach the motorcycle spots. There's only one bike parked there, and Remus assumes it must be Sirius's.

"Is this yours?" he asks anyway, walking around it in a circle to take in the whole thing

"Yeah," Sirius says, unable to keep the dopey smile from his face. "Built her myself."

"No," Remus says, amazed.

The bike is amazing, though he doesn't have much to compare it to. He climbs on, stumbling slightly, and holds on to the handlebars, pretending to rev the engine. He even makes little sound effects, forgetting to be embarrassed. Sirius laughs.

"Has anyone ever told you that you sound like a dog when you laugh?" Remus asks.

"Geez," Sirius says, laughing again, "has anyone ever told you that you're kinda rude? Is it just when you're high, or are you always like this?"

"I dunno," Remus replies, "I think I'm always kinda rude. I think it's endearing."

"You can't find yourself endearing," Sirius says.

"Why not?"

"I don't know, it's against the rules," Sirius replies.

"It's against the rules to introduce yourself as a pleasure to meet, too," Remus reminds him. 

"I've decided I don't like these rules," Sirius says, pouting.

"Me neither," says Remus. They smile at each other for a minute. "We should probably get back to the party."

"Probably."

As they step back into the elevator, Remus doesn't waste any time.

"It's also against the rules not to kiss when there' mistletoe," he says, wrapping his hand around the lapel of Sirius's jacket. "And, although we don't like the rules, this one must be followed."

"I guess," Sirius replies, tapping his finger against Remus's, "that I can maybe get behind the rules, if that's part of them."

He presses his lips to Remus's gently, pulling away to look at him after little more than a peck. His eyes wander over Remus's face, trying to tell if this is okay.

Remus answers by pushing him back against the wall, kissing Sirius harder. Sirius tangles his fingers into Remus's hair, pulling him closer. They don't pull apart until the elevator dings impatiently, reminding them that they never pushed any buttons. Sirius hits the button for the sixth floor, then begins kissing Remus's neck, starting to form a hickey on his collarbone.

"What's on the sixth floor?" Remus asks, trying to breathe normally.

"My apartment," Sirius murmurs, barely able to tear himself away from Remus's neck.

"James is going to kill me," Remus sighs. "The first time he gets me to come over and I leave almost immediately."

"No offense," says Sirius, this time looking Remus in the eyes, "but fuck James."

Remus can't exactly argue with that. Instead, he kisses Sirius again, quietly wishing that the elevator would move a little faster.

 


	2. December 22

The first thing Remus thinks when he wakes up is  _how?_ How did Sirius's leg end up on his face?

Honestly, Remus had never met anyone as ridiculous as Sirius, but he didn't think that would extend to how Sirius  _sleeps_. He's half off the bed, dangling with his face dangerously close to the floor. One leg is across Remus's face, the other propped against the headboard. This should not be possible to maintain.

Remus doesn't know how to get up without disturbing Sirius. He decides that the best course of action is just to disturb him fantastically. At least that will be entertaining. Remus wraps his arms around Sirius's leg and pushes as hard as he can.

It works. Sirius falls off the bed with a loud harrumph and sits up, awake and pouting.

"I'm sorry," laughs Remus, "but you just looked so  _ridiculous_."

"You don't sound very sorry," Sirius responds, pout intensifying. "And I don't forgive you."

"Oh come on!" Remus tries very hard not to sound like a petulant child. He isn't sure that it works. "I'm sorry, Sirius."

"I know how you can make it up to me," Sirius says, face brightening with a smile.

"And how's that?" Remus asks, trying not to smile in return.

"Make me breakfast?" Sirius asks, pressing his hands together. "Pleeeaaaaase?"

"You are such a loser," Remus says, but he gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen.

He wasn't able to see much of Sirius's apartment last night, and Remus has to admit that he's impressed. The whole flat has a perfect I'm-not-trying-too-hard-but-I-look-good vibe. Sirius tries to create the same vibe for himself, but it doesn't really work. It is far too clear that he is trying.

Any good impression Sirius's house had made on Remus fades the instant he opens the fridge. It's almost completely empty, containing: one bottle of mustard, three bottles of ketchup, one egg, way too much beer, a stick of butter, and some rather moldy jam. The cabinets aren't much better.

Remus manages to round up some not-too-stale bread and makes toast. There isn't much to put on it, so he gathers up all of the condiments and brings them to the bedroom, carefully balanced on two plates.

Sirius is still in bed. He's lying in what was clearly meant to be a seductive position, only it was all too clear that he had spent several minutes getting himself arranged.

"Your kitchen," Remus says, placing the plates on the bed and climbing in with Sirius, "is absolutely pitiful."

"Hey," Sirius protests, "it's clean."

"That's about all that can be said for it," Remus says. He hands Sirius a plate of toast. "I could only find some bread, so I made toast. And then, your jam was moldy, and I thought butter was a little plain, so I brought...this."

"Ketchup and mustard?" Sirius asks, staring Remus bewildered. "Remus, have you ever eaten toast?"

"Hey," Remus protests, "it's your kitchen! Not my fault you don't have anything."

"Oh yeah? Please tell me what we could have eaten if we were in your apartment," Sirius says. He raises an eyebrow.

"Cornflakes?"

"Inspiring." Sirius laughs and leans in to kiss Remus. "I have an idea," he says, pulling away.

"And what would that be?" Remus asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"We can go shopping!" Sirius says, eyes brightening at his own idea. He straightens up and starts gesturing while he talks. "We'll get eggs and peppers and like chives and shit. Do you like omelets?"

"Yeah, they're okay," Remus says, trying not to laugh at this sudden burst of enthusiasm.

"Okay, good. Omelets. I can make omelets." Sirius throws the covers off and flings open the doors to his closet, rooting around. "The store it is. Do you want to borrow some clothes? I think we're probably about the same size, if you want."

Remus joins Sirius at the closet and can't help the laugh that comes out.

"What?" Sirius asks, wondering why Remus was laughing at him. Again.

"All of your clothing is black," Remus says, still laughing. "Do you own a single item of clothing with actual color?"

"I'm punk," Sirius says, looking deeply wounded.

"Okay, fine," Remus says, "that is absolutely ridiculous."

Sirius groans and throws him a giant sweater and a pair of jeans much tighter than what Remus would normally wear. Remus notes a few dresses hanging in the closet as well. He watches Sirius watch him, trying to gauge his reaction.

"You should wear this," Remus says. He pulls out a long black dress, one that hangs to the floor with a thin slit up the leg. He can tell that it would look good on Sirius.

"Yeah?" Sirius asks, still watching Remus carefully.

"Yeah," Remus says, "why not?"

"Some guys get...weird." Sirius looks away while he talks, frowning. "When they find out a like to wear dresses and stuff."

"I don't care, Sirius," Remus tells him, reaching out to hold Sirius's hand. Sirius grins wider than he had all night. 

They leave the apartment, both dressed in Sirius's clothes, when Sirius realizes he left his wallet inside. He tells Remus to wait and he'll be right back, running back through the door.

Remus leans against the wall, thinking maybe it wasn't so bad to go to James's after all.

The elevator door opens and a few people exit, walking past him to their apartments on the sixth floor. He doesn't pay attention to them - they're all strangers. Except for one person. Shit.

James had just gotten off. He takes one look at Remus, wearing Sirius's clothes and covered in hickies like a middle schooler. He looks behind Remus at Sirius's apartment. And he laughs.

In all their pranks and jokes, Remus has never seen James laugh this hard. He actually has to sit down before he can breathe again.

"I'm sorry, mate," James finally says, "I didn't mean to laugh at you. It's just...shit, I owe Lily thirty bucks."

"She bet we would sleep together?" Remus asks, laughing too in spite of himself.

"No, we both bet you would sleep together. I just thought it would take longer."

"How long?" Remus asks.

"Two weeks." James is smirking now. "Peter bet a month, he's gonna be so pissed. Don't worry though, Sirius had no idea."

"I didn't think he did," Remus replies, smiling. "I can't believe Lily won - she'd never even met me."

"Lily's a genius," James says, "never underestimate her."

The door opens again, Sirius stepping back into the hallway.

"Sorry, Remus, it took forever, I-" he stops mid-sentence and takes in the scene before him - James and Remus sitting on the floor together. With his reappearance, both of them had fallen into fits of laughter again. "Uh, what?"

"Sorry, Pads," James says, "Lily and Peter and I had a bit of a bet on you. Looks like Lily's won."

"Lily always wins, I don't know why you still try," Sirius says. "Well, this is...slightly embarrassing."

"It is," Remus agrees, "but I say we both deserve a portion of the profits. As innocent bystanders."

"You are completely right," Sirius says, smile returning to his face. "I assume you didn't know about this either?"

"I did not," Remus says. "And, Pads?"

"Yeah, my dumb nickname," Sirius says, cheeks reddening. "James gave it to me in like fifth grade."

"Why?" Remus asks. "What's the story there? I have one too, he calls me Moony."

"There's no story," Sirius tries to say, before James cuts him off.

"There is too!" James insists. "The full name is Padfoot. Like a dog. Because Sirius is literally a dog."

"That's what I said!" says Remus. "I said he sounds like a dog when he laughs!"

"And I said that you're rude," Sirius replies, pulling Remus to his feet and holding on to his hand. "Come on, let's go to the store. I was promised breakfast."

"Yes, but you implied you were making omelets," Remus reminds him. "After I failed with the toast."

"Lily just made pancakes!" James interrupts. "Come to ours for breakfast. You owe us after you both ditched last night."

"Fine," Sirius groans. "But only because I like pancakes. And Remus  _did_ fail at making toast." _  
_

"How is that even possible?" James asks, laughing as he hits the down button on the elevator.

* * *

When he enters their apartment, James doesn't say anything to Lily, just pulls out his wallet and hands her thirty dollars. She looks at the money, looks up at Remus and Sirius, and laughs.

"I see you invited some friends over for breakfast," she says, poking James's shoulder playfully.

"I figured they owed us some quality time after ditching our party last night," James replies. "Besides, your pancakes are incredible."

"You're lucky that I like to cook, Potter," she says. "Come in, Remus, sit down. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"What about me?" pouts Sirius.

"I see you every day, asshole," Lily laughs.

Sirius shrugs and sits at the island, pulling Remus along with him. Remus can tell that he's at home here, that he knows this apartment just as well as his own. 

They spend the next few hours together, eating and talking. Remus loves Lily; he even finds himself wishing he had gone to some of James's parties before now. He likes Sirius too, ridiculous as he is. He makes Remus laugh, which is something Remus hasn't done much of in a long time.

Eventually, Lily and James kick them out, saying they have to get ready to go to Lily's sister's house. Neither of them seem very excited about this, but Remus decides not to ask why.

As he and Sirius leave the apartment, Sirius grabs his hands, pulling him to a stop.

"What are you going to do now?" Sirius asks.

"I don't know," Remus replies honestly. "I don't have to work. I guess I'll go home?"

"What would you do there?" Sirius has a weird look in his eyes, one that Remus can't quite identify.

"I dunno, probably get high and watch Law and Order reruns." Remus realizes how completely pathetic this is after he says it. There's something about being around Sirius that causes him to blurt out what he's thinking without processing it.

"I have a TV," Sirius says. "We could watch Law and Order together."

"Really?" Remus asks. He hadn't expected an invitation.

"Yeah," Sirius smiles, squeezing Remus's hands. "I don't think I've ever seen it."

"Are you serious? How the hell have you not seen it? It's literally always on."

"I am Sirius," Sirius says, smirking ridiculously.

Remus groans. Of course Sirius would find that hilarious.

They make their way back up to Sirius's apartment, crawling back into bed. The rest of the day is a blur to Remus, spent watching (and  _not_ watching) TV together. He hasn't felt content like this in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking this is probably going to be pretty short - maybe one or two more chapters. They should come pretty soon, I have general idea of where this going from here. Thanks for all of the positive responses so far!!


	3. December 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for mentions of past self-harm, implied suicidal ideation, and mentions of past childhood abuse.

"What are you doing for Christmas?" Sirius asks. It's early morning but they haven't slept yet. They're sitting on Sirius's terrace, watching the sun rise. They had pulled the comforter off of the bed, and were wrapped in it together, cuddling for warmth in the chilly morning air.

"I dunno," Remus replies. He hasn't thought much about the future recently. He still hasn't been home, hasn't left this apartment building since he first got here two days ago. He and Sirius have been hiding out in bed, ordering Chinese food and sleeping and fucking.

"You should come here," Sirius says, smiling sleepily. "Normally James and I go to his parents' house, but they're in Barcelona or something for the whole month. So he and Lily were gonna have me and Peter over."

"Wouldn't it be weird if I came?" Remus asks. He feels suddenly self-conscious. This is a normal feeling for him, but not around Sirius. Something about the other man made him feel safe, like he was home. "I mean, we barely know each other."

"Yeah, but you've known James and Pete for years now," Sirius replies easily. Remus can tell that he's been thinking about this for a while, that he really really wants Remus to say yes. Remus doesn't quite understand that, but it makes him feel warm inside. "Besides, Peter's bringing his girlfriend, whom none of us have met yet."

"Is that what we are?" Remus really doesn't know what they are. "Are we boyfriends?"

"I..." Sirius trails off, looking out at the pink-orange sky. "I dunno. I would like us to be. We've spent the last, what, 30 or so hours together? And I've been...very, very happy with you."

"I would like that, if we were...you know..." Remus says. He pretends he doesn't notice how Sirius's cheeks turn pinker than the sky. "It's beautiful," he says instead, pointing past them to the clouds.

"It is," Sirius replies. He stretches out and pulls Remus closer to him, wrapping his arms around him. "What would you do?"

"What do you mean?" Remus asks, caught off guard by the half-formed question. "What would I do if what?"

"For, like, you know...a job. If you could do anything. 'Follow your dreams' or whatever."

Remus doesn't know why Sirius asks him, why he seems so fascinated with this. "I guess...I always wanted to be a teacher."

"Really?" Sirius seems surprised by the answer, a little taken aback. "Like would you wear those awful jackets with the elbow patches? And carry a briefcase?"

Remus laughs, leaning his head back against Sirius's shoulder. "I'm more of a cardigan guy. But the elbow patches are a must."

"Of course," Sirius snorts. He hums thoughtfully, carding his fingers through Remus's hair. "I could see that, actually. You would be a good teacher. What did you want to teach?"

"Why all the questions?" Remus retorts, pretending to be angry.

"Fine," Sirius says, unfazed. "You ask me one. Then answer mine."

"Okay," Remus says, frowning. "Uh, what did you want to be? Is stunt choreography your dream?"

"It wasn't always," Sirius replies. "For a long time I wanted to - oh God you're going to laugh at me."

"What?" Remus asks, already laughing. "What did you want to be?"

"Oh, God, okay. I wanted to be a model."

Remus can't help it. He didn't want to laugh. But it's just really, really funny.

"Okay, okay," Sirius says, holding his hand up in defeat.

"Wait, what happened?" Remus asks, not satisfied. "Why did your dream change?"

"Nope," Sirius says. "Answer mine first."

"Fine," Remus sighs, "I think I'd like to teach English. That's what I studied in uni, I double majored in English and Education."

"That's nice," Sirius says, like he really thinks it is. "I don't know, I just didn't want to do it anymore. I still love getting my picture taken, I just...wanted other things I guess? I built my bike, and I loved it. And I got super into, like, action movies, you know? I thought that would be the coolest. And it is, by the way, it  _is_ the coolest. If you were an English major, what's your favorite book?" _  
_

"Oh God," Remus groans. "That's like asking a father to pick his favorite child." Sirius snorts at this. "Uh, I really love Oscar Wilde?" _  
_

"Bad answer," Sirius replies, smirking. "I get another question!"

"No fair," Remus pouts. He worries briefly that Sirius is rubbing off on him, as he is a grown man and does not make a habit of pouting, but quickly puts that thought out of his mind.

"Okay, why are you an accountant? I get that you needed a higher paying job, but why that one? And why for such a random company?"

"Honestly," Remus says, feeling his insides twist into a giant pretzel, "I just had to take whatever job I could get. Not a lot places want to hire the weirdo with the scars on his face." 

Remus closes his eyes, not wanting to see the look of pity on Sirius's face. He feels gentle fingers run along the familiar lines on his face, tracing the rough white scars.

"I know you don't want to tell me about them," Sirius says, gently turning Remus's face to look at him. "So I'm not going to ask. But I won't judge you if you tell me, no matter what."

"It's fine," Remus says. He sniffs, wiping away tears that he hadn't felt form. "I, uh, I was really depressed when I was a teenager. I mean, I still am - depressed, that is. But it's, uh, it's not so bad anymore. It's, you know, under control. But anyways, I got really upset one day, and took a razor to my face. I was just so...numb. I wanted to feel something again. Honestly, I didn't think I was going to live for much longer. I didn't think there would be consequences in the future."

"What happened?" Sirius asks. His voice is barely more than a whisper. He runs his fingers through Remus's hair, making calming circles with his thumbs. "What did your parents do when they found out?"

"I went to the hospital," Remus tells him. "For a week. It was...the worst week of my life. But it helped, I guess. I got better eventually."

"Do you hate seeing them?" Sirius asks. Remus didn't expect this question, isn't quite sure how to answer. He nods his head, slowly. "Because, I know what that's like, to have scars you hate."

Remus had noticed them, thin lashes across Sirius's back. He hadn't asked, wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"But," Sirius continues, "I kind of...I don't know. I don't  _like_ them now, or anything, but I appreciate them, I guess? They're a reminder, you know, that you've been through a lot, and that you're stronger for it."

"What happened?" Remus asks, reaching up to catch Sirius's hands. He pulls them out of his hair and cradles them in his own hands instead.

"My parents," Sirius replies. He doesn't expand on this answer and Remus doesn't ask.

They sit together in silence, wrapped in each others arms and a thick blanket, watching the sky make its way to blue.

"Where do you live?" Sirius asks after a while, breaking the silence.

"Far away," Remus replies vaguely. "In a...less nice part of town. In a shitty basement apartment."

"Can I see it?" Sirius asks. "Neither of us has slept, and we probably should, and I need to change the sheets. Only I don't feel like it."

"Sure," Remus says, a little worried about what his boyfriend (imagine that, boyfriend!) will think. "It's just...it's not very nice."

"I don't care," Sirius says. "If you're okay with me seeing it. I understand if you don't want-"

"No," Remus interrupts. "Come on. We better leave now, we're gonna have to take at least two buses."

"Or," Sirius says, mouth twisting into a terrifying grin, "I could drive us."

"On the bike?" Remus tries not to sound too excited. Maybe it wasn't so bad to go to his apartment after all.

* * *

Remus's apartment isn't  _embarrassing_ , exactly, it's just...bare. He has three rooms: a kitchen/living room/dining room/everything else, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The little furniture he has is all stuff he bought second hand from Craigslist or Goodwill. He has a shabby couch and coffee table to eat off of. His TV is ancient enough that it's a miracle it still works. His bed is actually just a mattress on the floor (when he's feeling optimistic, he tells himself that this is artistic.) He loves his wardrobe though, an ancient hunk of wood that reminds him of Victorian art.

Sirius takes it all in when he walks through the door: the funky musty smell that comes with living below ground, the worn furniture, the creaky floors. He walks through to the bedroom and spins around, sticking his arms out like an idiot.

"I love it!" He says, smile plastered to his face. "I'm not just saying that, I really do! This is amazing." He points to the wardrobe, walking over to investigate it more closely.

"It's my favorite thing that I own," Remus admits. He watches as Sirius opens the doors carefully, staring at them in awe. Nothing in his own apartment appeared to be over a year old.

"Oh my god!" Sirius yells triumphantly. He spins around, holding up Remus's socks.

"Oh no," Remus groans, realizing that they were not just any socks. They were the  _weed_ socks. "I got those as a gift, I swear."

"This is amazing," Sirius replies, going back to digging through Remus's stuff. "I can't believe you made fun of  _my_ closet."

He holds up another offending item, one of Remus's old sweaters.

"What?" Remus asks. "It's a sweater."

"No, Remus," Sirius honest-to-god giggles. "It is a cardigan. With  _elbow patches_. You didn't tell me that you were already an old man professor!"

Remus doesn't even bother protesting. Sirius looks like a kid in a candy store, like Remus's apartment is the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. Remus collapses on the bed, ignoring Sirius's delighted noises and promptly falling asleep.


	4. December 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty short chapter, but I wanted to stick with a chapter a day leading up to Christmas. Enjoy!

Remus hasn't been alone for the last few days, which isn't something he's used to. He usually spends the weekends alone, wandering through the city or lying low in his apartment, reading or watching TV. He likes being alone.

When Sirius leaves in the morning, Remus is sad to see him go but happy to have the rest of the day to himself. 

He realizes he doesn't have any gifts, since he wasn't planning on spending Christmas with anyone but himself. He had already sent his dad a gift in the mail - a set of rare books that he knew Lyall would appreciate. He and his father didn't both traveling to each other, had let themselves drift over time. Remus never really minded, but he is grateful to not be spending the holidays alone.

He wanders to the bookstore on the corner, looking around for something that any of his friends would like. He buys a cookbook inspired by famous movies, thinking Lily might like it. He changes his mind, deciding to gift it to James instead, including a note instructing him to cook for Lily this time. He then buys Lily a few of the movies instead, finding  _Jaws_ ,  _Fame_ , and  _Thelma & Louise_ in the discount bin. This is a rather eclectic combination, but they were all listed in the cookbook and Remus hopes that it will charming rather than sad.

For Peter, he gets a little miniature bowling set designed for the top of a desk. As far as Remus can tell, Peter never actually does any work in the office, and is always looking for something to entertain him. Bowling is a random choice, but it seems safe enough.

Remus recalls that Peter's girlfriend is coming to dinner too. He remembers that her name begins with a D - Dorothy or Dorcas, maybe. He feels rather bad about not remembering her name, but he knows nothing about her, and decides to get her a nice bottle of lotion. Well, it isn't that nice - he gets it from the sale rack at TJ Maxx, but it seems good enough to him. He makes sure to scratch off the $2.50 price tag and put it in a nice bag.

For Sirius, he is completely stumped. Despite having only known him for a few days, Remus feels much closer to Sirius than anyone else in his life. (He tries to tell himself that this because Sirius is special, not because he has no one close in his life.) After all, Sirius is his boyfriend now. And Remus barely knows him. Great.

He goes into every store in a two-mile radius of his house, it seems. Nothing's right. A book is too casual, cologne too impersonal. Sirius doesn't need anything for his apartment besides food, and Remus figures that that wouldn't make much of a gift. He considers buying Sirius his own pair of weed socks, just to be a dick.

Remus finds himself in an antique store, wandering down rows of old furniture. He remembers how much Sirius loved his wardrobe, and thinks about buying something similar. Then he remembers that he has to get all of these presents on the bus.

Still, he can't shake the idea. He keeps looking through the shop, hoping he'll find something small enough to be appropriate for the length of their relationship, but still personal. He wants to find something that feels like  _Sirius_. _  
_

Remus finds a small mirror in the last aisle, carefully placed on the tallest shelf. He guesses that it was designed to sit on top of a vanity, for old-timey women to do their makeup in. The frame is beautiful, but not overly ornate. He remembers Sirius's perfect winged eyeliner and the many beauty products crammed into his bathroom.

He briefly worries that giving a mirror as a gift is rude, and then decides that if anyone would want a mirror it would be Sirius. Besides, Sirius already found Remus rude, and it didn't seem to bother him much.

Remus buys the mirror. He ends up buying a pair of weed socks too. He's a dick - he can't help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That cookbook is actually a thing - it's called Dinner & A Movie (http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dinner-and-a-movie-cookbook-kimberlee-carlson/1014743784?ean=9780740703140) My family used to own a copy, but I don't think we ever made anything from it.
> 
> Also, no hate towards TJ Maxx. I have bought many a gift there.


	5. December 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty short as well, but I'm fairly pleased with how it turned out.
> 
> Would you look at that - a multi-chapter fic that I actually finished? Wild.

Remus is the last to arrive at the Evans-Potter household. He's actually on time - one minute early, to be precise. But Sirius essentially lives in their apartment, and Peter is always early.

Remus doesn't get a chance to feel awkward though, he's welcomed so warmly. Sirius runs to the door and kisses him the moment he enters, picking Remus up and spinning him around like characters in a Rom Com.

Everyone else is seated around the Christmas tree, which is comically large for the apartment. The top of the tree bends a bit, pushed down by the ceiling. There are presents scattered around the bottom, and Remus adds his gifts to the stack.

He's introduced to Peter's girlfriend, whose name turns out to be Dorcas after all.

"Okay," James says as soon as everyone is seated again. He's bouncing slightly, like on overly sugared child. "Now that everyone's here, let's open presents!"

"James," Lily scolds jokingly, "you could at least offer people drinks first."

"Would anyone like a drink?" Sirius raises an empty glass, and Peter nods. "No? Good! Let's begin."

Sirius pushes James off of his chair and walks past him to the kitchen. He returns with a bottle of wine and several glasses. James hands out the first round of presents eagerly as Sirius hands out the drinks.

"You should open mine first," Dorcas says. "I'm afraid I got you all the same thing."

"Why are you apologizing?" James asks, throwing the parcels out and tearing the paper off of his own.

Remus opens his own to find a hand-knitted scarf, made from royal blue yarn. It's softer than anything he owns, and he has to stop himself from rubbing it on his face. Sirius doesn't appear to have any such reservations, and has already tied his crimson scarf around his neck, smoothing the fabric over his cheek.

"Dorcas, did you make these yourself" Remus asks, amazed.

"Yeah," she grins. "It's nothing, though, I knit all the time. All of my friends are sick of scarves."

"They're lovely!" Lily insists, wrapping hers around her neck as well.

Peter has a knitted item as well, but his is a full sweater, which he quickly pulls over his head. It's forest green, and looks good on his coloring. Remus wonders how long Dorcas spent on it.

Remus gets excellent gifts from everyone. From Peter, he gets a collection of random memoirs, each with a thoughtful inscription. James and Lily give him a cashmere sweater and an anthology of poems.

Sirius blushes when Remus opens his present. Remus is grateful for this, because it makes him feel a little less embarrassed about the tears he quickly brushes away. It's a briefcase, a nice one. It had been hand-lettered to read Professor R. J. Lupin.

"For when you become a teacher," Sirius whispers, smiling at him. "I know you will, eventually."

Remus figures the warmth he feels deep in his belly has little to do with the wine.

Everyone else loves Remus's gifts as well. Peter declares the bowling set "brilliant." Lily and James are delighted by the cookbook and movies, happy to have their next few date nights planned out. James insists that he cooks just as often as Lily does though, because she works hard too, and he doesn't believe that women should always have to cook or clean or anything, because he isn't actually 90 years old.

Sirius loves the mirror, running back to his own apartment to put it on his dresser immediately. He returns to his second gift, which pleases him even more if possible. He puts the socks on immediately, and flaunts them for the rest of the night, sticking his feet in Remus's face as often as he can.

They spend hours around the dinner table, stuffing themselves on beef and potatoes and green beans and bread and pie and chocolate mousse. Lily had bought about 40 Christmas crackers, and everyone's decked out in at least three paper crowns before dessert.

James insists that they watch one of the new movies, and after a passionate debate between  _Jaws_ and  _Thelma & Louise_, someone (Remus suspects that someone is actually Peter) puts  _Fame_ on. This leads to the incredible discovery that James and Sirius had choreographed a dance to "I Sing the Body Electric" in eighth grade, which they both still remember. The choreography is largely them grinding on each other, which they are surprisingly good at.

Remus stays at James and Lily's late into the night, laughing and talking with his friends. He wonders quietly why he insisted on keeping these people at work, not letting them into his personal life. He loves them all immensely, feeling something he can't identify, something he hasn't felt in years.

As he makes his way to Sirius's apartment rather than take the two buses back home, he realizes what that feeling is. It's what he used to feel in his mother's arms, what he still feels when he listens to Fleetwood Mac or reads _The Importance of Being Earnest_ or smells brownies cooking. It's warm and happy. It's the feeling of coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i googled the date of christmas, just to make sure i had it right. i was fairly certain that it was the 25th, but i didn't really want to look like an ass.
> 
> sirius's gift was inspired by a tumblr post (i can't find it anymore, sorry) about how remus's briefcase was probably a gift from his friends before they died/went to jail
> 
> thanks to everyone who's read this!! :))


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